Shnockered
by Sparbudart
Summary: Bebe's illogical depression causes her to make some poor decisions. Lucky for her that Kyle's always there to bail her out. Some mature-ish situations.


**Author's Note:** Yo, guys. This is a slightly different fic from the type I usually write, but I hope you enjoy it. It's a little… naughty, so if you're not into that sort of thing (meaning "sex"), you don't need to read it.

**Disclaimer: **South Park isn't mine. If it was, I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfiction.

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**Shnockered

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**

When Bebe Stevens was deemed unappealing in the eyes of Kyle Broflovski, she found her life spiraling downward into darkness and depression. At least, that was what she scribbled angrily in her diary the night she decided to embark on a journey of inebriation on the misled streets in one of the more dingy areas of South Park, where no one really cared if one was below the drinking age or not.

Having consumed enough alcohol to kill a cow, she stumbled along the side of the road at three in the morning, clutching a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, muttering angrily to herself under a heavy cloud of booze. "Wassa mattah wiff me? H'stupid…"

Her blond hair was piled up sloppily underneath an old baseball cap, and she was wearing an old trench coat that looked as though it had been dragged through a puddle several times before she put it on; she wasn't exactly sure where she got it, but it hadn't been on her until after she got to the bar. She flexed her fingers as she brought the opened bottle to her lips for a swig, and the scabs that had just closed over her knuckles after a skirmish at the bar reopened with a vengeance, exposing new flesh and blood to the nippy air and causing her to recoil as the liquor numbed her throat even further.

_So what?_ She asked herself, blinking her bloodshot eyes against the cool Colorado-night breeze. _Why do I still care?_

Kyle had made it perfectly clear on several occasions that he was not interested in her in the slightest, and yet the notion still made her heart ache and jump to her throat. Thinking back on that fateful, sunny day when she had first tasted the lips of a boy in that children's tree house, she unearthed feelings that had been bursting in her bosom for nearly a decade. What _was_ it about his freckle-splashed face and iridescent irises that made her knees wobble so much?

In middle school, Bebe, sick of seeing him cringe whenever she kissed his cheek, decided to take a step in a different direction by dressing to impress. Well… to impress _Kyle _at least. But somehow, he was the only one who remained immune to her charm. She dated other guys, guys she never would have looked at twice, to gauge his reaction, but he never even seemed to raise an eyebrow.

He was there to drive her home when she accidentally locked her keys in the car or to help her with her homework when she was on the verge of failing math class. He'd call her cute when she would stick out her tongue, trying to get through one of the practice problems he'd made for her, and he'd kiss her on the forehead before leaving her house on many a late night. But no matter how much Bebe blushed for him, how many times she'd attempted to hold his hand, he just didn't seem to reciprocate.

Bebe remembered crying to her best friend on several occasions about how heartbroken he'd left her, and Wendy Testaburger had always said the same thing: that he would come around soon enough. Somehow, the more she got this response, the less Bebe believed in a future romance between her and Kyle.

Even without asking, she knew that he only liked her as a friend.

And then, to make matters worse than they already were, she had walked into an empty classroom one day to find him making out with some girl she didn't even know, who was practically lying on top of the teachers desk with Kyle's pelvis pressed as close to hers as physically possible. Betrayed and hurt, Bebe simply fled and didn't bother to look for him later.

Tears threatened when Bebe recalled the unfortunate series of events that had occurred earlier in the day, but a wave of panic took over when she sensed through her intoxication that she had no idea where she was. The streets were dark and deserted, and the only light came from a flickering streetlamp about a block away. The sky rumbled ominously, and a sheet of rain fell down with a whisper. Frustration taking hold, and feeling as though she were about to pass out, she backed up against the nearest wall, slid down alongside the garbage cans, covered her eyes with her cap, and cried herself to sleep.

--

"Kenny, you know I'm not really a drinker." Kyle furrowed his eyebrows and watched in disgusted amazement as his blond friend took a lime out of his mouth and licked salt off of the collarbone of a scantily dressed waitress who had been glued to his lap for the last hour. He wasn't a fan of the drunken scene and went merely to make sure that Kenny didn't impregnate anyone or spend so much money on alcohol that his parents would lose the house.

"Kyle, okay… Not _everyone_ got action today like you did, buddy." He kissed the mouth of the busty redhead, who was now grinding against the blond boy's hips rhythmically, and was left with a smear of scarlet lipstick on his chin.

"'Action'?" Kyle repeated. "I didn't get any 'action.'"

"Then what do you call getting it on with Carol Brown on Garrison's desk?" Kenny let out a low whistle. "I would totally tap that. And I _bet_ she was a virgin too!" He sounded very impressed and even a bit jealous.

"Okay," Kyle began over the ruckus in the bar. "We didn't do anything! She told me that she found my binder or something in the room, and… and then she brought me over to the desk. She pulled me by the shirt, and I just kinda… fell at her." How many times would he have to explain this to people? He hadn't heard the end of it all day at school. "The next thing I know, her legs are wrapped around my hips." He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "And Bebe saw the whole thing!"

"So? You act as if it's the end of the world."

"'So,' she's the most irrational person in the world!"

"I don't really understand…"

"Well I know _you_ wouldn't. You can't keep it in your pants for five minutes." Kenny shrugged in agreement. "But you know how _I_ feel about Bebe."

"Dude, I've told you before that you need to stop playing the 'best friend' card. Fucking… tell her how you feel already."

"It isn't that simple. Not when it comes to us…" He imagined how stressful and awkward it would be having her eat dinner with his family not as a friend but as a potential girlfriend after having thrown rocks at cars together. It was really more than he could wrap his head around. "It's like… we're together kinda, and then we're not."

"Kinda like Eliot and JD in 'Scrubs'?"

"Er… what?"

"That's right, I forgot… Jew boy doesn't watch TV." Kenny sighed sympathetically and placed a hand on the breast of his seducer as a signal for her to stop her ministrations. Meanwhile, Kyle had furrowed his eyebrows at him in annoyance. "Okay, look…" he said, matter-of-factly. "This is all my fault. You're right. Why don't you just go home? We can go drinking together some other time."

"You do realize that I _never_ drink with you, right? I just don't want you to get killed. You're lucky my parents are out of town this weekend."

"Yeah… whatever. I'll be fine here by myself."

"Are you sure, Kenny?"

"Dude, you know damn well that I don't drink more than a few shots. And I live two streets from here. I'll be fine." He used a brushing motion of the hand to try to shoo away his Jewish friend.

It went against all of Kyle's principles to leave his friend alone in a bar, but at the moment he didn't really have the energy to worry about anyone else. "Okay, dude… I'll see you later. Uh, promise me you won't wind up dead in the morning, all right?"

But Kenny was once again sucking on the tongue of the cocktail waitress, and his hand was toying with the waistband of her stockings. Kyle attempted another goodbye, and he was given a thumbs up before he exited the bar through the creaking door.

He shivered in the cool air as the rain made it's way down the back of his neck and managed to clean off the odor of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and human sweat. He walked briskly to his car and clambered inside with a shake of his head. He dried off his hair a little with the towel he kept on the backseat and started the engine. It roared to life, and he headed up the road to his house on the other side of town. Even if she was asleep, he decided to himself, he'd still give Bebe a ring as soon as he got home just to clear up any misunderstanding.

He stopped at a pair of railroad tracks and was forced to wait as the early morning arrival of lumber passed through the neighborhood. The warning lights illuminated his surroundings, and the Jew entertained himself by looking out of the window. He saw a pair of shoes poking out from an alley and suspected it to be a homeless person, but his heart leapt to his throat and his stomach churned when he caught a glimpse of long blond hair piled onto the shoulders of what was previously impossible to recognize as a woman's body. _It couldn't be her…_

Was Bebe that unreasonable? The answer to this question was obvious.

_Yes._

"Shit," he swore angrily to himself, and without thinking twice, Kyle parked his car and flung open the door, not bothering to look behind him for any oncoming traffic. "Shit!" he yelled again, skidding to an ungraceful halt in front of the body and splashing himself with dirty water. He impatiently pulled the baseball cap off to be met with Bebe's dirt-streaked face. He glanced in worry at the vodka bottle in her hand and experienced a momentary panic during which he believed her to be dead. He felt for a pulse below her jaw and noticed the steady rise and fall of her chest. Relief washed over him when he realized that she was merely asleep. He shook her shoulder gently, and she responded with a groan that was almost inaudible, turning her head to one side.

"God damn it," Kyle muttered. With that, he hoisted her to her feet, and she woke up, although she remained fairly incoherent.

"Mom?" she asked hopelessly, blinking fruitlessly against the rain.

"I'm taking you home," Kyle concluded, despite knowing that she probably didn't understand a word he was saying. He removed the filthy coat she was wearing and flung it to the ground, wondering where on earth it came from. He gulped nervously when he saw that the only things she was wearing underneath were a pair of gym shorts and a white camisole, which was promptly getting soaked from the rain. Kyle couldn't bring himself to look away when he saw the pointed nubs of her nipples through the fabric as they tightened from the cold water.

"S'cold, Kyle…" Bebe mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself.

"C'mon," Kyle said, leading her to the passenger side of his car. He helped her sit on the leather seat, wincing when he imagined all the filth that was being left behind. He grabbed the towel that'd he'd used previously and proceeded to dry her hair the best he could. It was difficult for him to ignore the goose bumps that were popping up all over her arms or the way she clutched at his shirt and whispered his name as he continued his tender ministrations. When he was finished he wrapped the towel around her shoulders and buckled her seatbelt.

The train was long gone, and Kyle continued on his drive home, tempted to yell and swear at Bebe for being so foolish, but he managed to refrain upon seeing her lying limply in the passenger seat. The level of worry inside him spiked again to astronomical heights. He shook against the steering wheel, imagining what would've happened to her had he not been fortunate enough to spot her shoes.

Ten minutes later, Kyle pulled into the driveway of his parents' house. "Bebe," he coaxed quietly, turning off the car engine. "Can you walk?" She shook her head with difficulty, and Kyle opened the door to his house, went around to the passenger side, and picked her up bridal style, to which she responded by linking her arms around his neck like a small child. He felt her pert breasts pressed against him through the thin fabric of his shirt as he led the two of them into his house and out of the rain. With difficulty, he managed to get the two of them to the bathroom in his parents' room, where there was a large and reasonably clean bathtub just begging to be used.

"I wanna go t'sleep…" Bebe said, slurring her words to the point of becoming incoherent as he set her on the tile floor and allowed her head to droop onto her chest. Kyle started the running water with a rumble.

"You're not going anywhere until you clean up a little," he demanded lightly, knowing that his mom would offer him to the dogs if she caught the slightest whiff of booze in the house when she came home; at least her prominent nose had a purpose. "Okay, I'm going to heat up the water for you and fill up the tub, all right? And I'll stay in here with you, okay?" he added, hearing her whimper at the thought of being left alone. "So, why don't you just, uh, take off your shorts – " He blushed after saying this, hoping that she was wearing underwear. " – and, uh, get into the bathtub." He tried to ignore the fact that he would probably be bathing her himself while trying to convince himself that he was only staying with her to make sure she didn't get hurt.

Oh, yeah… that was _definitely _it.

To his complete and utter dismay, Bebe seemed incapable of even following a command to undress herself. Face flaming, Kyle helped her shimmy out of her shorts and held her hand as she stepped into the bathtub. The sight of her smooth, bare legs made Kyle's muscles tighten.

If he thought submerging her in hot, foamy water would ease the stress in his pants and cause the dissipation of his carnal desires, he had never been more wrong in his life. The steam brought a little more color to Bebe's lips and cheeks, and her shirt had become almost completely see-through. He would never understand how she could be so heavily intoxicated and provocative at the same time; it made his fingertips twitch in anticipation.

He was forced to sit uncomfortably in his wet and smelly clothing as Bebe tried to clean herself off the best she could; on more than one occasion, Kyle was forced to assist her. Fifteen minutes later, Kyle managed to get her out of the tub, dried off as well as possible, and situated on the bed in his room. He'd refused to change her clothes for her, so she was sitting on a damp towel, trying to work out some of the knots in her hair with a comb while the Jew stripped down and took a cold shower in the adjacent bathroom to calm his raging hormones. He knew full well that he was doomed to spend the rest of the night with her.

"Breathe," he told himself, repeating it in a mantra several times as the cool water fell in icy sheets over his shoulders down to the tips of his toes. "Just… breathe. Pretend she's… wearing a parka or something." It was then that he remembered the advice of Kenny, one of the most experienced people in the world when it came to being with a girl: _If you wanna have any chance of being in bed with her, you gotta clean the pipes first._ Kyle wasn't completely stupid, he knew enough to understand to which part of the body was being alluded; it didn't help that the organ between his legs was nearing its breaking point, so to speak. Not wanting to have a disaster while watching over Bebe, he took care of his arousal the best he could, picturing Bebe lying splayed out on his mattress with her hair mussed up and her limbs flexing sensuously against his cotton sheets.

.

Bebe got the comb stuck in her hair, and she was too dizzy to bother trying to take it out. Frustration built up again, and Kyle found her in a fetal position, crying loudly like a toddler after scraping its knee. The sight was so pitiful and heart-wrenching that he dropped his towel upon entering his room, and, completely forgetting that he wasn't wearing anything more than a pair of boxers, sat cross-legged next to her on his bed, brotherly instinct taking over. Sensing his presence, Bebe leaned against his side, and Kyle slid a hesitant arm around her shoulders. "What's the matter?" he asked soothingly, fully prepared to listen to her ramble about something that was probably only a result of all the alcohol she'd consumed.

"I'm – the comb is stuck!" she wailed loudly. "And… I'm _ugly_! You think I'm _ugly_!"

Kyle frowned at her. _Wow…_ was all he could think. "I don't think you're ugly. You're normally quite pretty. You're just really drunk is all." He laughed a little, ignoring her squirming in protest when he managed to disentangle the comb from her hair.

"You _do_ think I'm ugly!" She pounded her fists onto the mattress, unknowingly making herself look very juvenile.

"No… I don't." He wondered how long she would argue before keeling over and falling asleep; it was generally impossible to argue a point against a drunk person.

"Do to… one zillion, billion times!"

_That didn't even make sense._ "Okay… what do I have to do to prove to you that I don't think you're ugly?" he asked, humoring her.

He expected her to say something nonsensical like "catch the elephant," but Bebe suddenly spun herself around and sat on his leg, straddling his upper thigh. Kyle felt himself grow hot yet again as he felt the warmth from between her legs seep onto his bare skin; had he not known any better, he would've imagined her to be as turned on as he was. "Kiss me," she commanded huskily, grazing his lips with her own and intoxicating him with the smell of her sweet, alcohol-spiked breath.

_Kiss her…_ It was such a simple request…

Kyle's eyes slid shut as he let himself savor the delicious sensations she was lavishing upon him, and his hands began to crawl up the back of her soaked shirt to draw her closer. She moaned into his ear in a way that made him grow harder. At the same time, her nails were digging urgently into his shoulders, causing him sweet pain. He noticed that she was beginning to… _rub_ herself against his leg in a slow yet rhythmic manner.

Kyle thought back to all the times when he'd walked in on Bebe and one of her monthly boyfriends making out and touching each other on _her bed_, and he felt a surge of manly pride in knowing that _he_ was the one she was with now. _He_ was the only one she was prepared to give herself to.

Another cloud of alcoholic air hit him in the face, and he managed to disengage from his daydream. "Bebe," he whispered. It was when he said her name that he remembered who he was with and the deeply rooted friendship that had bound them to one another for so long. "No… we have – we have to stop." He grabbed her shoulders gently and forced her away. They hadn't even kissed, and he was panting, struggling to hold onto his self-control. "You – You need to go to sleep."

Her mind didn't seem to register what he was saying; her eyes were still unfocused, and her cheeks looked like they were stained red. It didn't help Kyle in the slightest to see her looking back at him so erotically as several words spilled forth from her puffy lips. "The only thing I need is… is… I need… I need _you_. Right now." Taking advantage of his momentary shock, Bebe released herself from his grasp and used both arms to peel off her camisole and toss it carelessly to the floor. Ample breasts exposed and erect, she wrapped her arms around Kyle again, caressing every part of him she could reach and sucking wetly on his neck. Her lower half resumed its grinding movements against his pelvis as well. He couldn't help it. Kyle groaned loudly, nearly climaxing into his shorts. "Oh… _God_…" he breathed. The evident eagerness in his voice only made her push against him harder and faster, the friction causing her to shriek and gasp as all the sexual tension rolled up into a ball deep in her core.

"Kyle…" she panted heavily, her movements becoming jerkier as she was reduced to a shivering puddle in his lap. She shuddered against him one last time, whispering his name into his ear, scratching at his back once again, and then weeping into his shoulder as the aftershocks of her orgasm wracked her slim frame.

Meanwhile, Kyle was beginning to feel the coils of passion begging to be released from his own body. Of its own accord, his body had begun to thrust against her wet, panty-clad center with an unknown sense of urgency. "Bebe…" She nipped his ear in response, and he lost it. He stiffened his back as a blinding explosion at the base of his length caused him pleasure beyond his wildest dreams. He grunted in satisfaction, and he felt her stop her burning torturing. He deduced through his cloudy mind that fatigue was beginning to set into her exhausted body, and it was a mutual feeling.

The blond rested against him and let out a sigh, linking her arms around his neck. "Kyle… I love you…" Bebe mumbled, half asleep and dizzy from intoxication, and pressed her bare front even closer to his in her stupor.

Kyle, however, was blushing to the point where steam was on the verge of coming out of his ears. As shameful as it was, the momentary pleasure had done nothing to quench his desire. He continued to strain against his shorts as he tried in vain to picture something disturbing like Stan's sister in the shower to get himself to calm down (he had already had an orgasm in his shorts, for Christ's sake). But it was useless, as he could fathom little more than the softness of Bebe's alabaster skin and the hot, moist breath coming from her mouth as she inhaled and exhaled deeply against the base of his neck.

The level of respect and trust she had for him was incredible. There she was clad only in a pair of damp cotton briefs and straddling a guy who would give anything to have his way with her right then and there. He wanted to taste her, to caress her in the most intimate of fashions, to hear her cry out his name in the throes of passion… but he settled instead on rubbing her bare back like a parent, despite his current state of arousal, as she all but snored against him. "I love you too…" he stated plainly, more to himself than to her, solidifying the statement in his own mind as it passed its way over his trembling lips.

He breathed her in and gradually felt his own eyes slide shut.

--

Bebe didn't know what time it was when she woke up, but she could sense through the thin skin of her eyelids that it was long past sunrise. She turned her body over with a groan to get away from the light and opened her eyes slowly. The sight made her heart stop.

Beside her on the mattress was Kyle, shirtless and breathing deeply, still clearly asleep. Bebe instinctively lifted the sheets to find herself very nearly naked underneath the covers. Her initial reaction was panic, but it wasn't until she made to sit up that the force of her hangover hit her like a train.

"Ow, shit!" she yelled loudly, clapping a hand to her forehead. "Fuck!" she swore again, not even bothering to lower her voice. Then came the unmistakable wave of nausea that had her wanting to relieve the contents of her stomach all over Kyle's clean sheets. Just as the strength to continue forcing it down gave way, an extended arm offered her a stainless steel pot, which she used to catch last night's dinner; it echoed unpleasantly around her head as vomit hit the sides of the pot. She handed the unfortunate mess back and immediately regretted doing so.

_That _must be appealing…

"Most people probably would've died from drinking that much alcohol, you know."

Bebe wrapped the sheets securely around her torso and lay back down with her eyes closed. She let out another small groan. "Oh, shut up," she managed weakly, too afraid to say anything else. Her sapphire eyes popped open when she felt Kyle lean over and press a gentle kiss to her temple. She just stared at his grinning face. "Uh," she began intelligently, wondering how on earth she was supposed to ask the dreaded question. "We didn't, uh… we _didn't_… right?" The last word came out as a squeak and she inserted her pointer finger into the closed fist of his other hand, removed it, and repeated the action several times.

Kyle merely gave his head a little shake, causing hair to fall dreamily in front of his green eyes in a way that made Bebe swoon. "Technically… no. Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you." He offered her a crooked smile.

"What does that mean… 'technically'?"

Kyle suddenly lost the nerve to look her in the face; he could still feel her body pressed right up against his. "We, uh… we got just about as far as you can get without actually _doing_ it…" She tilted her head, urging him to elaborate. He sighed. "Let's just say that neither of us have clean underwear, all right?" _What an awkward thing to say…_

Bebe turned a delicate shade of crimson, and she suddenly found herself feeling very self-conscious; she clenched her thighs a little tighter. However, she couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment that seemed to wash over her after his statement. "Oh… what – I can't even remember what happened…" She pressed a fist to her forehead, but it wasn't enough to stop the dull throbbing beneath her skull.

"Bebe…" Kyle began, his tone becoming stern. "I saw you passed out on the side of the road. What the hell were you doing last night?"

That was when it all came back to her. What had happened after school yesterday, going to the bar, and drinking herself to sleep. Bebe suddenly felt hot tears burning the corners of her eyes, and with a choked sob, she turned and began to cry into her pillow. "I'm _such_ and idiot!" she said in defeat.

"Well…" Kyle knew that her decision was incredibly miscalculated and unreasonable, but he didn't think it would help the current situation to agree with her. "We all make mistakes," he concluded lamely. After last night, the thought applied to him as well.

"But sane people don't go around passing out right outside a bar! Oh my _God_ you must hate me right now! Ow…" She finished by pressing another hand over her eyelids.

"Here, let me get you a towel or something." Kyle uncovered his body in order to get to the bathroom sink, and after looking blatantly at his bare chest, Bebe saw with a mixture of relief and disappointment that he was still wearing his Terrence and Phillip boxers.

Bebe heard the sink run for several seconds, and Kyle returned with a damp washcloth. She held out her hand expectantly, but when the Jew regained his position beside her on the mattress, he held the cold compress to her forehead for her. They avoided each other's eyes and sat in silence for a lengthy amount of time, listening only to the chirping birds outside the window.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

Kyle's shoulders tensed up a little. "What do you mean?"

Bebe used the arm that wasn't holding up the bed sheet to rest it on his forearm and gently force it onto the mattress between them. Her eyes shifted guiltily away from the point of contact between them. "I mean… why do you do the things you do… for me?"

Kyle examined her face curiously; she looked like an absolute train wreck. Her eyes were bloodshot, and traces of makeup still resided beneath her eyelashes. She looked pale, her lips were badly chapped, and there were blond tufts of hair sticking to her face where the water from the towel had dripped. For some reason, Kyle couldn't tear his emerald eyes away from her. "Because…" he said, stroking a strand of her matted hair lovingly. "I care about you." To his frustration, she burst into tears for the second time in ten minutes. "What'd I say? What's wrong?!"

"I don't deserve it!" she wailed loudly. "Not after being that stupid! Crashing on the road? And I can't believe I did all _that_ stuff to you! I tried to seduce you – !"

" – And you basically succeeded – "

"And I – oh, God… I told you I loved you, didn't I?!"

"Uh… well…"

She smacked herself soundly on the forehead, immediately regretting it as soon as she felt like hurling again. "I knew it! I _completely_ humiliated myself last night! God, Kyle, I'm so sorry!" Except she really wasn't apologetic at all for confessing, even if the memory of the glorious event was still fuzzy.

Kyle didn't catch the hint. "No, it's okay!" He held up his hands in a defensive manner, as if telling her not to worry about it. "You were blind drunk last night, I know you weren't exactly _thinking_ before you said anything."

"But that's the thing!" She looked about ready to rip her hair out. "I really do love you!" The words seemed to bounce and echo around the room for several minutes before getting a distinct reaction.

Kyle was floored, and his rigid stature illustrated his shock. "You… do?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes!" Bebe said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I was so hurt yesterday! After trying for so long, I just lost it when I saw you with another girl!" There, the deed was done. There was no more dancing around it. He knew. "You're probably so sick of worrying about me…" Her voice had lost all of its charm and charisma, and it sounded flat and defeated.

The more illogical half of her expected Kyle to walk out the door, but she felt her heart soar when he stayed put. If anything, he only scooted even closer to her. "Oh… Bebe…" he said softly, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek, to which she willingly leaned into. "That was all a complete misunderstanding. She sorta tripped me and pulled me at her when I was off balance. I tried to follow you out, but you ran way too fast." He paused, debating with himself whether or not he should say what else was on his mind. "And I know you don't remember this… but I told you that I love you too."

Bebe swung up her head of golden hair, wincing, but suddenly alert and slightly nauseous. "You did?"

Kyle grinned boyishly at her, his eyes shining mischievously. "Hell yeah, I did." His reward was a beautiful smile, the first one he saw on Bebe's face in the last two days. It lit up her features and suddenly transformed her back into the girl he had fallen in love with since the first time he'd kissed her. Which reminded him… "You know, last night? We never even kissed."

Bebe felt her jaw drop… and the sheets dropped from her front as well, but she paid them no heed. "We didn't?" she croaked in disbelief.

Kyle covered up her chest for her with a free hand, trying the best he could to avoid getting too distracted by her breasts. "Nope."

"We basically _fucked_, and you didn't even kiss me?!"

"No…" he answered slowly. "Don't you think it sounds kinda vulgar when you say it like that?"

She ignored him. "You _came_ in your pants, and we didn't – "

"I was trying to get you off of me!" Kyle interjected, embarrassed immensely. "Jesus, dude… you practically raped me. Besides… _you_ came first," he added pointedly, trying to one-up her at the mortification game.

The top of Bebe's head that looked like it was about to erupt cooled down several degrees. "Yeah… I should probably just stop talking," she mumbled quietly. She felt a blush light itself on her upper cheekbones for the millionth time.

"C'mere," Kyle demanded gently with a small beckon with his hand, and the girl of his dreams sidled over to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to hold her close enough to feel his heart beat. When she was close enough, he dipped his head down ever so slightly to capture her lips in a kiss that was far from earth shattering but sweet enough to let her know that she was absolutely adored. Both of them were grinning identically when they parted. "Even though neither of us is sure what the hell just happened… Let's just… enjoy being here for a minute."

However, Bebe was just dying to ask him a question and could not bring herself to shut up until she did. "So," she began, shifting to get in a comfortable position against the Jewish boy, "how big are you?"

"What?" He looked as though he'd just received a slap to the face.

"How big are you?" she repeated impatiently, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout. "If you got me off wearing clothes, you must be pretty big."

Was she shameless? Kyle was rendered speechless by her forwardness. "I… I…" he stuttered, not knowing how to answer her. Was that something girls normally asked about? He found himself feeling self-conscious, having had very limited experience with the opposite sex before last night. Were Kenny's stories about size really true? "Uh… I…" he blabbed, blinking in confusion.

But Bebe smiled and pecked him on the lips. "I'm just kidding," she commented, enjoying the thrill of making him squirm. "Kinda."

"'Kinda'?" She could be so… _dirty_.

"If it's weird right now, I can just find out for myself later. If that's all right with you, kosher boy." Her voice had gotten somewhat husky, and Kyle jumped when he felt her fingers drumming lightly over his navel underneath the sheets.

"Whatever floats your boat," he consented with a quirky smile that she graciously returned.

It was… weird, to say the least.

What they had was nothing short of unpredictable.

Twenty-four hours ago they were doing their math homework together at lunch, and there she was, lying in bed with him and drawing circles on his chest with a delicate finger. Kyle didn't understand their relationship in the slightest. All he knew was that he loved her to the point of no return, and she loved him perhaps even more.

That was all he needed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** There you go. Happy ending, cuteness, hotness, weirdness...? Like it? Hate it? OOC? "Whatevah, whatevah, I do what I want!" JK. I'm good with whatever you guys say about it. Review please! It really gives me something to build off of for the next time. By the way… I'll high five anyone who got the Flight of the Conchords reference. xD

I just realized… that's kinda gross how Kyle kissed her after she threw up. Oh well. LoL.

And for anyone who's wondering… the next chapter of _Cartman Was Right _is still in progress… I'm sorry for the wait. I'm still having a bit of trouble with this chappie, but it should be out soon. I really don't have any excuses for lack of time since school is finally out (heck yes). I'll just try my best to finish it as soon as I can… once I get over this ridiculous writer's block thing…


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